Finally, he speaks. “You know why you’re here. You’re here because Jasmine told me to cut you loose.”
I blink. “Yeah, but what does that even mean? Why would she want that?”
Ash’s jaw tightens. “I don’t know. But I know it’s not for your benefit. Jasmine doesn’t help people. She ruins them.”
He steps closer still, so there’s barely room to breathe. “So you’re going to learn to control your magic before she tries to rip you apart with it. You’re not doing this for Jasmine. You’re doing it for you.”
I snort. “So inspirational. Are you going to be my magical life coach?”
He cuts me a look, and I can tell he’s more than a little annoyed. “You think I want to be out here with you? In this cold? I’m risking plenty. Jasmine is insane.”
I can’t help laughing, but it’s bitter as hell. “And I’m supposed to trust you to help me?”
“Doubt me all you want,” he says, voice dropping to something dangerous. “But do not walk away from this. Or from me.”
For some reason, that bothers me, but not because it makes me angry. It should make me angry. But instead it triggers something else, something I don’t want to name. Maybe it’s the way his eyes bore into mine. Maybe it’s the way he crowds me up against the trunk of a tree, arms closing me in on either side, leaving zero room between us.
I try to step past him, done with his games. “You know what? Screw this. I’d rather be in my own bed than freezing to death here with you. Goodnight, Ash.”
But before I can move two inches, his hand wraps around my wrist and whips me back, spinning me until I’m pinned.
“Don’t,” he growls. “Don’t turn your back on me, Rose.”
I glare up at him. He’s so close I can feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek. For a second, there’s nothing in the world but his face and my stubborn pride, both refusing to give first.
I realize with something like horror that I want him to kiss me. Not just want, more like it’s a desperate, uncontrollable need. My body goes hot, despite the cold. If he so much as brushes his mouth against mine, I will melt, right here in the cold November woods.
He knows. Ash always knows. I can’t hide from him. The mark makes sure of that.
But instead of doing something predictable, he does something different.
Instead of closing the distance, he lets go abruptly. It’s cold, deliberate.
“Be here tomorrow night,” he says. “Same time. Don’t make me come find you.”
I want to scream. Or punch him. Or something. Instead, I just glare, unable to hide the disappointment burning under my skin.
Ash smirks. “Go on. Run back to your little fan club. I’m sure they’re waiting up for you.”
That stings more than I want to admit. I yank my arm away and stalk off, refusing to look back.
I don’t know if I’m angry, turned on, or just tired of being jerked around, but my head spins all the way back across the quad.
By the time I get to the dorms, I don’t even remember how I got here.
I slam the door behind me, peel off my freezing clothes, and fall onto the bed. I lie there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, replaying every second of the woods until it’s worn down to nothing but the memory of Ash’s mouth, inches from mine.
I don’t sleep for a long time.
And I already know I’ll be in those woods again tomorrow night, shivering and pissed, hoping he’ll actually kiss me this time, and knowing he probably won’t.
Red flags are always harder to see in the dark.
Eleven
Lucien
It’s early, but I find myself outside Rose’s dorm room, listening at the door. She’s awake, but only barely. Her movements are lethargic, as if she’s already exhausted by the day before it’s begun. That alone tells me everything I need to know.
